Strange Exchange
by MrSpockify
Summary: When a freak transporter accident occurs, Captain Kirk has no idea what's going on with his two best officers. Meanwhile, Spock and McCoy are just trying to figure out how to get back into their own bodies! K-plus for some language.


Captain's Log, Stardate 1819.2:

We are finishing up our routine mission to Malcolm IV, where we were to check up on scientists currently at work, testing unusual minerals on the planet's surface. After our mission is complete, we are to report for Shore Leave on a peaceful planet not too far from here. Doctor McCoy was sent down to give medical scans, and Mister Spock was sent to give any additional help possible while here. Both reported that they were of no use. The scientists are in perfect working condition, and need no extra hands around the lab. My medical and science officers are beaming up now to give me a full report.

Captain Kirk pressed a button on the arm of the command chair, signaling an end to his log entry. He stood up and walked around to the other side of the chair, punching another button to signal the Transporter Room.

"Scotty, I'm on my way. Beam them up when I get there."

"Aye, sir." Scotty said back with his thick accent. Kirk clicked a small lever, and a beep ended the transmission. He leaped up the stairs elatedly and walked to the turbo lift. It hissed open when he came into range, and he slipped inside, turning around and looking at his helmsman.

"You have the con, Sulu." The doors hissed shut in front of his face, and the lift maneuvered to get to the deck he wanted. When the doors slid open, Kirk lunged out and headed down the corridor to the Transporter Room. Scotty stood behind the console, waiting for him just as he was ordered.

"Energize, Mr. Scott." The chief engineer obliged, pressing a few buttons and placing his hands gingerly on the controls. He moved the controls like a master, cueing the high-pitched whine of the transporter. Over on the platform, nothing happened.

"Scotty, what happened?" Kirk moved forward, placing his hand on the console and staring intently at the technician. Scotty shook his head hopelessly and adjusted the controls.

"I dinna know, Cap'n. It shoulda worked just fine!" He pulled the controls again, looking tense and slightly aggravated. Kirk stepped away from the controls and looked at the transporter platforms. At first, he could only hear the whine of the machine, and there was nothing appearing in front of him.

"Come on, lassie." He heard Scotty whispering to the controls, coaxing them like you would a child. Kirk would have told the engineer to focus on the task and not treat it like a living thing, but Scotty always seemed to make things work, and if this was how he did it, then fine.

The whine grew louder and more high-pitched, then finally a faint flicker appeared. The small flicker grew into two separate shapes, glittering golden and bright. The shimmering effect took a few seconds longer than usual. Before him on the transporter, McCoy and Spock appeared, as fine as ever. Scotty sighed in relief and patted the console. "Thata girl."

"Good work Mr. Scott." Kirk smiled and stepped toward the platforms, his hands on his hips. "Dr. McCoy, report." He looked over at his chief medical officer, but the crewman just stared back calmly, saying nothing.

"Well, Jim, there's nothing to say. All of the scientists down there were in perfect working order. Not a single scratch or bruise to account for." Kirk looked over at Spock, surprised at his laid back tone. But even more surprised at the fact that he answered when the captain had clearly asked for McCoy's report. Spock looked at him and shrugged, a faint smile appearing on his lips. "They're taking good care of themselves."

"Mr. Spock, thank you for the information, but I think I'd rather have the _medical_ report from the _doctor._" Kirk pointed to McCoy, who raised an eyebrow in response.

"What're you talking about-" Spock cut himself off as he turned to look at McCoy. Both officers were wide-eyed. They stared at each other intently, and Kirk wasn't sure what was going on.

"Bones… Spock? Something wrong?" He looked back and forth from his officers, and they hastily walked off of their platforms. Spock answered again.

"No, Captain." His tone was formal again, but sounded a bit off. "I think the doctor and I are both worn-out from the mission. If you'll excuse us…?" Spock signaled to the door, his hands behind his back. McCoy stood beside the Vulcan, his eyebrow still raised and a pondering look on his face.

"Of course. I expect a full report later, though. Dismissed." Kirk watched the two officers walk away. They looked slightly ruffled and out of place for some reason.

There's something strange going on, Kirk thought. And I need to know what it is.

Spock and McCoy walked into the turbo lift, waiting for the doors to hiss shut after them before saying anything. When the doors closed, Spock lashed out a hand, locking the turbo lift doors and keeping it from moving.

"What the hell is going on?" He said angrily, an obvious grimace taking over his features. McCoy stayed calm and looked down at his hands, turning them over and examining them. He looked down at his shirt, paying close attention to the sleeve stripes and the insignia.

"It seems… _Doctor_," McCoy said, looking over at the Vulcan, "that we have switched bodies."

'Spock' stared wide-eyed, his jaw hanging open. Shaking his head, he held up a finger, pointing it into 'McCoy's' face. "You mean to tell me that I'm stuck in a god-damned Vulcan body? I'm not going to be as impassive as you." He threw up his arms and started pacing around the tiny area. "And _you_! Well, so help me if you ruin my reputation, Spock, I'll… I'll… I'll pinch your neck! I have that power now, right?" The doctor stared back, expressionless.

"I do not know, nor do I wish to find out, doctor. The logical thing to do-"

"Logic!" McCoy, stuck in Spock's body, turned abruptly to the other man. The devilish features on his face looked menacing with the angry glare. "How is this," he gestured to himself and Spock, "anything close to logical? Even stuck in _my_ body-a _human _body- you're obsessed with logic!" The Vulcan placed a hand on his forehead, mumbling about a headache. Spock, in the human body, raised an eyebrow.

"As I was saying, doctor, the logical thing to do is to tell the captain. He will, no doubt, be curious as to why we are acting strange. If-"

"Oh, no you don't. We can't tell anyone. The last thing this ship needs is another problem. We're about to report for Shore Leave, and every crew member is taking long-needed time off, including the captain. He needs this vacation, and you're not going to ruin it, Spock." McCoy was angry at seeing himself so unresponsive. The way Spock made his body just stand there agitated him even more. "We'll fix this problem on our own. We can go to Sickbay and I'll try to conjure up some sort of surgery for us." He rubbed his hands together, already trying to think of remedies.

"Tell me, Dr. McCoy, how will you perform surgery on yourself? This type of surgery, no matter how impossible it seems, would no doubt have to do with the brain. You would have to be unconscious for the procedure, and I do not believe you are equipped to carry out surgery while in a comatose state." McCoy looked over at his own body, infested by the annoying Vulcan. It was like looking into a carnival mirror, only he wasn't laughing.

"Well we can't tell anyone." The doctor went to scratch behind his ear and nearly had a heart attack as his hand brushed over the pointed skin. He rubbed his finger against the sharp surface, frowning slightly.

"Then what do you suggest we do, Doctor?" Spock looked over at his own body, slightly unsettled at how emotional he looked. If they were not going to tell anyone, McCoy had better not portray him as this openly expressive new Spock.

"I don't know, Spock!" McCoy stopped touching the ear, feeling more unnerved by it. He looked at his feet and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Even his voice sounded like Spock's. I'm not, McCoy thought, going to be able to live with hearing his voice every time _I_ talk. "But for now, let's not tell anyone. We're both smart crewmen, so we should be able to figure this out ourselves."

"Your over-confidence does not assist in making your proposal any more logical. I still believe we should tell the captain." McCoy opened his mouth to protest, but Spock held up a hand. "However, I will not say anything. You have my word." Spock touched the turbo lift button signaling the lift to continue moving. He gave one last look over at himself before he shook his head and relaxed his posture slightly. He crossed his arms and tapped his foot as if impatient for the deck he was going to.

"What're you doing?" McCoy asked.

"We must act like each other if we are to fool the crew. I suggest you straighten your back and place your hands behind you." Spock said. McCoy glared back and opened his mouth as if to argue, then closed it, thinking better. He muttered something about ridiculousness then straightened his posture and put on a poker face.

The turbo lift doors swished open, and Spock, stuck in McCoy's body, walked off nonchalantly. McCoy almost believed that he really _was_ the doctor. The doors hissed shut in front of his face.

"Bridge." He said vacantly, his heart starting to race. Only, his heart wasn't where it should have been. "This is going to be a long day." The doors hissed back open, revealing the Bridge. He stepped out, wearing an emotionless mask. He forced himself to walk to the science station where he relieved a tired-looking ensign.

"Spock, do the forward sensor scans show anything?" Kirk turned in his chair to look at his first officer. McCoy forgot for a moment that he was Spock, and hoped that the captain didn't notice the slight delay.

McCoy peered down at the alien buttons, trying to remember which switch he was supposed to press and where he was supposed to look. Luckily, the ensign he had just relieved had left the screen on, so he just had to analyze the information. Hopefully no one had noticed his momentary confusion.

"Negative, captain." His voice sounded oddly reassuring, and he realized it was because he really did sound like Spock. Keeping a smug smile from his face, he distracted himself by thinking about what Spock would be doing in his body right now. The thought did not comfort him.

Spock paced around Sickbay, contemplating the problem at hand. Somehow he couldn't concentrate. The medical room seemed too small and confining. He yearned for the more open, less cluttered area of the Bridge. He couldn't help but miss the quiet, persistent beeping of the consoles, the efficient yet laid back atmosphere. But mostly, he wished that Sickbay wasn't so lonely.

Sure, Spock enjoyed alone time now and again. But the less populated Sickbay was a significant diversity from the Bridge, where people would shuffle in and out constantly. He felt like the only people left on the ship were him and Nurse Chapel.

But the good thing about it was he didn't have to continually act like McCoy. Even when Christine visited him it was only for a few minutes. Unlike the real doctor, who he had trusted to keep up his calm, logical stature in front of the entire Bridge crew. The thought of McCoy losing control in his own Vulcan body in front of everyone made him edgy.

Spock distracted himself by trying to think of a way to fix the problem at hand. He walked slowly around Sickbay, but he couldn't focus. Finally, he just hopped up onto one of the diagnostic beds and sat cross-legged, his fingers touching. He closed his eyes, falling into deep meditation. Now he could think clearly and logically.

On the Bridge, Kirk sat in the command chair, fidgeting restlessly. What was usually a comfortable chair now seemed like a restraining, rock-hard sitting-place. He was eager to get to the Shore Leave planet and take some time off. Perhaps the planet might have mountains he could climb. I could ask Spock and McCoy to join me, he thought, but immediately remembered their odd behavior. Looking over at Spock, nothing seemed different. His officer sat with good posture, staring over at the view screen where stars slowly climbed closer to the edge of the screen before disappearing from sight. Spock looked as calm and logical as ever.

"How long until we arrive, Spock?" Kirk asked, even though he had asked not ten minutes ago. Raising an eyebrow, Spock turned his chair to face the console. His fingers moved slightly slower than usual, but the captain gave no notice.

"Seven-point-four-three hours… Mark." Spock answered coolly. The Vulcan stared at Kirk, and the captain was shocked to see amusement in the corners of the science officer's eyes. And was that a smirk? "Getting restless, Jim?" Uhura looked up from her console and stared at Spock, then the captain. Spock hardly ever called Kirk 'Jim' while on duty. It seemed unprofessional for anyone to do it, but Spock? Kirk looked just as surprised, but let it slide.

"A little. It'll be nice to get out and stretch the old legs. Aren't you at all excited to get some Shore Leave in?" Kirk asked, almost as a test. Something was different about Spock today. He wasn't sure what, or why, but he wanted to find out how different his first officer really was.

Spock opened his mouth to answer, then shut it, as if rethinking what he was going to say. The humor left his eyes at once, and the previous, cold stature returned. Kirk almost sagged in regret; he had liked the sociable manner his friend had taken on. "It will be a good time to… relax." Spock answered firmly, then turned in his chair to stare down at the console. He said no more.

Kirk sat back in his chair and shrugged inwardly. Well, it was nice while it lasted. He stared over Sulu's and Chekov's head at the starry expanse on the view screen. He could almost feel himself and the ship hurtling at warp speed toward the peaceful planet, coming that much closer to rest and relaxation. Once again, the chair felt uncomfortable. He stood up and walked over to the turbolift, deciding to visit McCoy. The doctor was always one to liven up his day.

"Spock, you have the con. I'm going to head down to Sickbay." The lift hissed open when he came into range, and he stepped inside and turned. The last thing he saw was Spock, looking worried for a split second before regaining his cool composure. Maybe McCoy could explain the Vulcan's strange behavior.

McCoy stared incredulously at the captain as he disappeared in the turbolift. Instantly he regained his composure and stood up, trying to keep an excited expression off of his face. He walked composedly over to the command chair. The cushioned, black surface of the seat looked comfortable and inviting. He sat down in the chair slowly, trying not to look anxious. He had never been in command before. Sure, it was as Spock, but still.

He rested his arms on the sides of the chair, then pulled away when he accidentally pressed a button. A small beep followed, then there was silence. He couldn't place which one he clicked.

"Yes, Keptin?" Chekov's voice spoke up on the other end of the transmission. He had been off-duty, most likely sleeping in his quarters. McCoy couldn't figure out how he had done it, but he tried not to dwell too long on the accident. Spock wouldn't have acted confused. Of course, Spock wouldn't have accidentally called Chekov.

"Sorry, mister Chekov, I didn't intend to call you." McCoy looked up from the chair and saw that nearly everyone on the Bridge was staring at him and trying not to laugh. He felt his face turning red- green, actually- as he blushed. I'm really bad at being that stubborn, pointed-eared jack-rabbit, he thought angrily, fidgeting slightly.

"Oh, mister Spock?" Chekov sounded confused on the other end, and McCoy could picture him trying not to laugh at his fellow officer. "Uh… That's okay, sair. No harm done." The smile was obvious in his voice, and the doctor found it hard to keep a straight face. If Spock had done that to him, he would have laughed too.

"Spock out." He ended the transmission quickly, keeping down laughter. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep up the Vulcan composure.

Suddenly he missed Sickbay more than ever.

The lift hissed open and Kirk strode into the corridor, heading straight for Sickbay. Nurse Chapel was walking toward Sickbay from the other side of the corridor, and Kirk smiled at her. They walked into the medical room together, then both stared, mouths gaping, at the doctor.

Doctor McCoy sat cross-legged on one of his own examination tables. His eyes were closed tightly and he looked like he was deep in thought, or even praying. His hands were together in front of his placid face, fingertips touching. The doctor glanced up, surprised, at the sound of the door whooshing open. His bright blue eyes darted back and forth between the two, making him look like a kid who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. The three officers stared at each other in confusion for a few silent moments, unsure of how to react.

"Um… Sleeping on the job, Bones?" Kirk asked, walking over to help the doctor get down from the table. His suspicions vaulted higher, but he still didn't have any idea what he was supposed to be suspicious about.

"I was just thinkin', Jim." McCoy straightened his clothes and smiled slightly, but the smile almost looked forced. Nurse Chapel, after giving the doctor a few worried and amused glances, nodded to the officers and left Sickbay, shaking her head.

"Well, Bones, I haven't seen you think so hard in years." Kirk laughed, but as he and his friend sat down at a small table in the corner of the room, he genuinely felt concerned for McCoy. "Something bothering you?" The doctor stood up and rummaged through a cabinet filled with medication. Kirk could tell he was attempting to stall an answer.

"Not at all." He walked back to the table with two translucent-blue cups and a bottle filled with liquid. The bottle was tilted at the top, as if even the container was drunk. "Saurian Brandy?" He asked. Before Kirk could accept or decline, McCoy started to pour the alcohol into the two glasses. Now this, thought Kirk, is the McCoy I know. He took his cup and held it up to the light, watching the tiny waves crash against the side of the glass silently.

"To Shore Leave; we all need some time off now and again." Kirk grinned and held out the cup to McCoy. The doctor hesitated before holding his out as well and grinning back. He made a mental note.

"Cheers." The doctor agreed, holding the cup up to his lips. The liquid played up against his slightly parted lips, but nothing entered his mouth. Kirk didn't notice, and took a big swig of his own drink, nearly finishing one-fourth of it immediately. He forgot about what he made a mental note on, and took another sip.

Spock had been unsuspecting as Captain Kirk and Nurse Chapel walked in on him. Then the captain had wanted to talk to him alone. Luckily, he had thought fast and brought out an alcoholic beverage. Even Kirk wasn't immune to the effects of Saurian Brandy. Hopefully, Spock thought, if I can get him to drink enough, I won't have to answer any tough questions. Spock was almost feeling guilty about using alcohol to sway his superior from the topic at hand. But if humans didn't have enough will-power to refuse a drink, then that was their problem.

Spock watched, repulsed, as his captain downed his drink, then reluctantly refilled it when Kirk had finished. Kirk started talking about Shore Leave some more, and how he was very excited to go mountain climbing. When asked to go along, Spock agreed, remembering that he was in McCoy's body. Some part of him was slightly amused as he thought of what McCoy's reaction would be as Kirk asked him if he was ready to go and scale a huge mountain.

"…I wonder if Spock would want to go?" Kirk idly watched his drink slosh back and forth in his cup, resting his head on one hand lazily. Spock considered replying, but just shrugged and pretended to take a sip of his Saurian Brandy. But Kirk wasn't going to give up; he wanted an answer. The captain stared up at who he thought was his chief medical officer, obviously expecting a response.

"Well, I don't know, Jim." He chuckled, shrugging again. "Who ever knows with that blasted Vulcan?" Spock forced himself to call himself irritating. He was not ignorant; he knew McCoy probably made fun of him behind his back. The captain seemed to like the answer. He grinned and took another mouthful of Brandy.

"He could go mind-meld with a rock." Kirk mused, chuckling to himself quietly. He didn't see his fellow officer stiffen and pause, thinking deeply. Spock almost laughed loudly at the obvious answer Kirk spoke. Why hadn't he thought of that?

He put the blue cup up to his lips and took a real swig of the Saurian Brandy, then had to suppress a grimace. Why do humans like this? Spock thought, setting the glass down. Even though his captain had kind of made fun of him, Spock still sent out thanks to Kirk for solving his and McCoy's problem.

It had been so obvious…

McCoy, relieved from duty, headed down the corridor toward Spock's quarters- _his_ quarters. He kept forgetting that he was supposed to be Spock. He had made the mistake of smiling at a young ensign when she said hello in the Rec Room. She had walked off with a puzzled look on her face, and he had made a speedy getaway.

The door to the room slid open and he entered. Usually, McCoy would have started to complain about the high temperature and dark atmosphere in the room. But the heat was comforting. The ambiance, however, was still too mysterious and creepy for his likes. The dark shades of red and gray were eerie and a wall-hanging gave him chills.

He walked over and sat down on the bed, rocking back and forth slowly. The heat seemed to radiate from every direction, and he allowed himself to close his eyes and enjoy the comfort. He was torn out of his reverie by the hiss of the door. He opened his eyes, only to be startled once again at seeing himself. It was like looking into a mirror… Only not.

Spock strode into his quarters, pausing only when he stood directly in front of the doctor. McCoy stared up at him and waited for him to speak. When he did, he heard his own voice, but it was monotone and boring, just like Spock's.

"Doctor, I think you will be pleased to know I believe I have found an answer to our… dilemma." McCoy instantly brightened, standing up excitedly and grinning. "If I am correct, I may be able to mind-meld with you, and switch our bodies back." The doctor laughed out loud, overjoyed. Spock stood, impassive. He tried to ignore the hesitant look in Spock's eyes, but eventually the doctor's curiosity got the best of him.

"There's a catch, isn't there?" Spock took a deep breath, and blinked his blue eyes slowly.

"Well, doctor, I don't believe anything like this has ever been attempted in the past. For one thing, it may not work. For another, I may not be able to do it." He looked somber. "There is no way for me to know what the outcome will be." McCoy looked at his feet for a moment, contemplating. Finally, he looked up at the Vulcan stuck in his own body, feeling a surge of courage.

"There's only one way to find out then." Spock met his eyes, and nodded solemnly.

Spock sat down on his bed next to McCoy, his heart beating erratically. No matter how illogical it was, he couldn't help but feel eager to get back to his own body. But another part of him was worried that the procedure wouldn't work, that he'd be forever trapped inside the doctor's body.

McCoy stared silently at him, looking more 'Spock-like' than he ever had while in the Vulcan body. Spock took a deep breath and cleared his mind, preparing for the mind-meld. As he pulled his fingers up to the familiar face, he wondered momentarily if he would be able to meld while in a human body. Brushing the idea away, his fingers found the contact points, and he closed his eyes, concentrating.

Mind-melding was deeply personal. It allowed every one of your thoughts, feelings, experiences, to be shared with another. Everything was taken and received, no matter how personal. All the suffering, the humiliation, the passion. The experience was only shared between very close individuals. It wasn't something to be taken lightly, and Spock had mixed feelings about mind-melding with the good doctor.

Spock began to probe McCoy's mind. He felt a moment's hesitation as the doctor got used to having another presence in his thoughts. He sent surges of welcoming, comfort, and any other calming emotion he could think of. He needed McCoy to be as secure as possible for what was about to happen. Even he himself didn't know what was to come, but he figured it wouldn't be pleasant.

Spock, with a swell of power and force, pushed his mind as far as it was possible, feeling himself being torn. He was experiencing everything: McCoy's pain, his own pain. The sheer mental weight that was pressing down on him was awful, let alone the terrible feeling of uncertainty. He couldn't tell whether he was in his own body or McCoy's. Spock forced himself to focus on pushing McCoy's mind back into his own body. The fear and shock emanating from the doctor slowed the process, made it more painful.

_Go!_ He screeched, his voice booming everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Spock was starting to tremble, the effort getting to him. He was quickly running out of energy, McCoy's struggling wasting too much of his strength. Luckily, the doctor seemed to have understood the urgency, and he felt some of the weight lift as McCoy relaxed.

Nausea caused Spock to reel, and he felt more of his energy draining. A deep, pulsing boom echoed around in his head, and he felt as if the pounding was tossing him all around. He felt dizzy, sick, scared. The negative thoughts and feelings ricocheted around his mind and body, and he desperately wished it would all end soon.

With one last powerful push, Spock felt McCoy's presence vanish, and his own mind was alone. He retracted the mind-meld and his body shuddered. But which body was he in? Spock felt fingers fall from his face, and he opened his eyes.

The doctor stared back at him; he looked drained.

"My God…" The doctor whispered, a slow smile spreading across his features. Spock felt a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Not from happiness, but from shock and relief. He had done it!

"It seems we were successful." Spock said, and he watched in silence as McCoy stood up and rubbed his face gingerly, his fingers shaking. The doctor started laughing hysterically as he headed toward the door, then turned back to Spock and grinned.

"My _God_! You did it. You _did it_!" He examined the stripes on his sleeves and the insignia on his shirt. "I can't believe you pulled it off, you green-blooded…" He trailed off and murmured to himself elatedly. The doctor shook his head and grinned at Spock again, then turned to leave.

"Oh, doctor?" Spock called, standing up. McCoy turned, standing in the doorway. It hissed open and he moved to stand right outside in the corridor. Spock walked up to stand in front of the doctor. An almost smug look crawled onto the Vulcan's features. "I do hope you enjoy rock-climbing with the captain during Shore Leave. I hear the planet has very large mountain ranges." The grin on McCoy's features melted into a scowl.

"Why you little-" Spock pressed a button, and his door hissed shut, blocking McCoy's rant. He sauntered to his bed, self-satisfied thoughts running through his mind. He could almost see McCoy staring up at a mountain, grimacing and bantering loudly. For himself, Spock planned to stay somewhere quiet and just meditate. It would be nice to relax in his _own body for a change. _


End file.
